


Everything Has Changed

by Lenni51074



Series: Steve Rogers Takes A Chance On Love [2]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Mild Language, Pining, Steve Rogers Needs a Hug, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-22
Updated: 2019-11-03
Packaged: 2020-07-10 20:20:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 15,941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19911616
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lenni51074/pseuds/Lenni51074
Summary: Prequel to “Take A Chance On Me”A new Avenger joins the team, and Steve is not as prepared for it as he thought.This story is told mostly from Steve’s point of view, detailing his first meeting with you (Trigger) when you join the team, through your developing friendship, until the moment he realises that he is in love with you.





	1. All I Know Is A Simple Name

**Author's Note:**

> A new member joins the team, and Steve is not as prepared for it as he thought.
> 
> Chapter titles inspired by the lyrics from “Everything Has Changed” by Taylor Swift and Ed Sheeran. Yes, I’m a loser. Deal with it.
> 
> All information with regard to the Marines sniper training came from this Wikipedia page:
> 
> https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/United_States_Marine_Corps_Scout_Sniper
> 
> Any mistakes are my own.
> 
> Whilst I’ve used this as inspiration for the character, obviously I’ve taken plenty of artistic liberties in making the character ‘almost’ perfect, but if you’ve read “Take A Chance On Me” then you already know that she has enhanced abilities, which aren’t mentioned in the S.H.I.E.L.D. file that Steve read.

Steve woke with a strange feeling in his stomach. He frowned, realising that it was nerves.

Why the hell was he nervous?

He sighed as he remembered. Today was the day that Director Fury was introducing the newest member to the rest of the team. There hadn’t been a new addition since Spider-Man had become an official Avenger about twelve months ago, and while Steve didn’t really feel that a new person was required – the team was working perfectly well just the way they were, thank you very much – Fury had decreed that a larger team was necessary. And as Fury was the Director, he had the final say. Steve, whilst the unofficial leader of the team, could only accept what was ordered from those above his pay grade.

In some ways, Steve could see the benefits of a new person joining the team. Where possible, it would enable each mission to be tailored specifically for the most appropriate people for the job, rather than relying on everyone to be available all of the time regardless of their skill set. It also meant that they wouldn’t need to call in additional recruits from S.H.I.E.L.D. as often.

A larger team also meant that, if necessary, several smaller missions could be completed at once. This meant that each team would have less time in the field, because they would be less likely to be required to go on several consecutive missions before heading back to the Compound to debrief Fury.

More people would also allow for more downtime for everyone, as it would be easier to rotate each member through the missions, allowing fresher people to undertake what was required while those returning recovered from the strain of being in the field for weeks at a time, or from any injuries they might have acquired. It would also enable everyone to mentally recharge, so that they were always at their best in the field.

Still, he was honest enough with himself to admit that he selfishly wanted things to stay just the way they were. He’d had enough changes over the years. He really didn’t need any further disruptions to his life just as things were finally getting on an even keel.

Steve realised with a start that he was worried that the new recruit wouldn’t like him. He felt all of his old insecurities bubbling to the surface. He felt exactly the way he had that night before Bucky had shipped out for the war, when he’d found out that his best friend had arranged a double date with two dames who clearly had eyes only for the newly-appointed Sergeant Barnes, not for his skinny little friend who’d once again been rejected from serving his country.

Ever since Bucky had joined the team after being cleared of all the charges laid against him after the UN bombing – thanks to the testimony of King T’Challa of Wakanda confirming that Bucky had been framed, together with Tony’s public acceptance of his apology for the part he’d played in the death of Tony’s parents - he’d become one of the most popular Avengers. Once again, Bucky was the pinup, the glamour guy, and Steve felt as if he’d reverted to Skinny Steve.

Almost like old times.

He mentally slapped himself, knowing that his best friend would have done it in reality if he could hear his thoughts. _You’ll be fine, punk. The newbie will probably like you better than me._ Bucky’s words from last night echoed in his memory.

Sighing once more, he got out of bed. If he had the world’s quickest shower, he just had enough time for a cup of coffee and a quick bite to eat before he needed to head to the conference room.

_Let’s do this, Rogers,_ he mentally encouraged himself, grabbing his towel and heading for the bathroom.

***********************************************

The rest of the team was already seated and chatting quietly amongst themselves when Steve finally entered the conference room.

“Just in time, Capsicle. Fury is on his way up with the rookie,” Tony informed him.

Steve took his customary seat at the opposite end of the table to Tony, with Bucky and Sam on either side of him. He made a show of flicking through the file for the new recruit, even though he’d read through the documents yesterday. He had found their resume to be exceptionally impressive.

They had joined the Marines straight out of high school, and their uncanny skill with a weapon during recruit training soon drew the attention of their superiors. The rookie had been recommended for the Marine Scout Sniper Corps, despite still being a teenager. After the top military brass had seen them in action, they conveniently ignored the fact that no rookie had ever undertaken the sniper course before now. They bypassed the standard practice that dictated that a recruit had to have achieved at least the rank of Lance Corporal, and brushed aside the minor detail that this person would be the youngest ever trainee, throwing them straight in at the deep end. By all accounts, the newbie had exceeded everyone’s expectations.

Top of their class at the Marine Corps Base at Quantico. The only recruit to get all thirty-five rounds in the black from the thousand yard line on the Known Distance Range every single time – the recommended minimum was twenty-eight rounds. Apparently ruthlessly efficient with both an M40 bolt-action sniper rifle and an M4 carbine assault rifle, as well as the standard issue Beretta M9 pistol. Their accuracy with all three weapons was an unbelievable ninety-eight percent - most recruits in that class had barely made eighty percent accuracy throughout the entirety of their training with a single weapon, let alone practically everything that was handed to them.

They’d served two tours in Afghanistan, rising to the rank of Second Lieutenant fairly quickly due to their impressive stalking and observational skills. This Marine reportedly excelled at both solo missions and when working with more extensive teams, following orders diligently, and providing excellent leadership when asked to step up.

Most of their work, however, had been fairly secretive. They’d been selected for Special Ops after only two years of service, and the details of the majority of their missions were hidden even from the eyes of the President himself. Even Natasha hadn’t been able to dig up anything on them, much to her annoyance.

After retiring from the Marines about a year ago, it had been a no-brainer for S.H.I.E.L.D. to accept their application to become an agent. Again, top of the class for the latest bunch of recruits. Exemplary weapons skills and a sharp tactical mind. Fast-tracked for approval for the Avengers Initiative before they’d even finished recruit training. That was as much as anybody officially knew.

There wasn’t a picture on the file. Nothing to provide any indication of their true identity, not even a date of birth. The only information that had been provided to the team was their stats during training, a brief outline of their service record, and the code name allocated to them.

_Trigger._

Yes, on paper the new recruit seemed like the perfect candidate to be an Avenger. Steve looked forward to meeting him.

Steve closed the file and looked up as Fury and another person entered the conference room. “Morning, all. I’ll forego the niceties for once. Allow me to introduce the newest member of the Avengers Initiative. Former Marine Scout Sniper, Second Lieutenant Y/N Y/L/N, otherwise known as Trigger.”

To say that the newbie was not what Steve was expecting would be an understatement.

_Oh, help,_ he thought. He was in serious trouble.

***********************************************

You stood next to the Director, your stance betraying your military background. Your hair was pulled back into a neat bun, and your standard issue S.H.I.E.L.D. uniform gave you a professional air. You stood with your back straight, legs slightly apart, arms behind your back, chin lifted almost saucily as you looked each Avenger in the eye as you instantly sized them all up. A brief nod was bestowed upon each person as you made eye contact with them.

When your eyes finally rested on Steve, your mouth quirked up at the corners ever so slightly, giving him the distinct impression that you were trying your best to prevent yourself from bursting into laughter at his thunderstruck expression. You clearly knew that your appearance was not at all what he had anticipated. He felt as if he were going to burst into flames when you gave him a cheeky wink before carefully schooling your face back into a facade of perfect calm.

You were the first dame to make his heart skip a beat since Peggy Carter.

“It’s lovely to finally meet all of you. I’ve admired you all for so long, and I’m looking forward to getting to know all of you better and working together with each and every one of you.”

Your voice was sweet, almost musical. There was a hint of laughter in it, as if you found everything in life to be one big joke. Steve suddenly found himself wanting to listen to that voice reciting the telephone book, because he was convinced you could make it sound totally alluring.

You smiled at everyone, your gaze once again seeming to settle slightly longer upon Steve. Your eyes sparkled with barely suppressed mirth, and you exuded a spirit of absolute joy. You gave him another wink, which this time Bucky and Sam both noticed, causing them to simultaneously elbow him in the ribs whilst smirking in your direction. He barely even noticed their extremely unsubtle teasing, he was so mesmerised by you. 

Steve Rogers had never wanted anything in his life as desperately as he wanted, at this precise moment, to be your friend.


	2. All I’ve Seen Is Your Smile In The Back Of My Mind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve has unexpected – but definitely not unwelcome - company for breakfast.

Steve headed into the kitchen following his run. He’d gone out earlier than usual this morning, his complete inability to sleep eventually causing him to give up trying altogether and do something productive instead.

For the past week, every time he’d closed his eyes, another pair of eyes stared back at him, dancing with glee and beckoning to him like a siren calling the sailors to their doom. Paired with the dazzling smile that had greeted him the first day he’d met you, and that musical voice, it had made sleep virtually impossible.

As he made himself breakfast, he pondered his predicament. He’d officially known you for what felt like a grand total of thirty seconds, and had been instantly smitten.

It was strange. He hadn’t felt this doll-dizzy since Peggy. Sure, he’d had a brief flirtation with Agent 13, but that was before he discovered that she was actually Peggy’s niece, Sharon Carter. And when they’d kissed in Germany, Sharon had admitted that it felt as if she’d been kissing her grandfather. She now jokingly referred to him as ‘Great Uncle Steve’, and they had remained good friends after reaching the decision that their mutual attraction would not lead to anything more.

He’d dated a few other women, but nothing serious ever eventuated, and so he’d told himself that he was destined to remain a bachelor. He was never going to find another Peggy, and so it therefore stood to reason that he would live the rest of his life alone.

Then he had met you, and promptly forgot about wanting to be on his own.

Just as he’d slid the eggs onto his plate, a bright voice chirped beside him, causing him to nearly drop his breakfast.

“Good morning, Captain Rogers.” You were hidden behind the door of the fridge, but he recognised your voice instantly.

“Good morning, Lieutenant,” he managed to reply, proud that his voice hadn’t gone up several octaves. Especially when he noticed that you were dressed in a pair of sweatpants that sat low on your hips, and a singlet proclaiming _‘Dear Burpees, Fuck You, Love Everybody’_. Your hair was pulled into an adorably half-assed ponytail. Steve realized that you were barefoot, which explained your ability to sneak into the kitchen without him noticing.

You smiled warmly at him as you dropped an assortment of fruit on the kitchen bench. Rummaging through the cupboards for a knife and a chopping board, you continued chatting to him whilst making yourself a fruit salad. “If I’d known you enjoyed running, I might have asked if I could join you.”  
  
“Well, I wouldn’t say that I _enjoy_ running, exactly,” Steve admitted. He felt a warm glow when you emitted what could only be described as a bark of laughter. No girlish giggles for you. It was a full-on belly laugh, and it was one of the best sounds he’d ever heard.

“Yeah, it was pretty much the only aspect of basic training that I actively despised. Everything else was fine, but getting up at 0500 to run around the base for an hour is just something I could never bring myself to love. What does the 0 stand for? Oh my God, it’s early!”

You topped your fruit with yoghurt and sat down next to Steve at the breakfast bar. Your arm brushed his briefly, and he felt as if he’d been electrocuted.

Steve cleared his throat, hoping that you didn’t notice his embarrassment. “I read your file, Lieutenant. I must say, I’m very impressed. I can see why Director Fury wanted you on the team.”

You smiled softly. “Thanks, Captain. It was such a shock when he called to offer me a position with the Avengers, especially as I hadn’t finished S.H.I.E.L.D. recruit training at the time. I’ve looked up to all of you for many years.”

“I’m surprised you had time to admire us, given the amount of action you’ve seen over the past few years,” he said.

“Well, we all need role models, sir. You and my family are probably the biggest influences on my decision to serve.”

Steve felt his eyebrows rise up practically to his hairline. “I influenced your decision to join the military?”

You nodded. “Well, partly. I’m fourth generation military. My great-grandfather served in World War 2. In fact,” you pointed at him with your spoon, “if it wasn’t for you, I wouldn’t even be here.”

Steve gave you a puzzled frown. “What do you mean, Lieutenant?”

“Great-grandad was captured in Italy. The Howling Commandos rescued him. If it wasn’t for you and your team, Captain Rogers, he wouldn’t have survived, and I wouldn’t be here today. So, really, it’s all _your_ fault that I’m an Avenger,” you grinned at him.

He didn’t know how to respond to that, so he settled for rolling his eyes and pretending that he was offended. This seemed to amuse you greatly, because you started laughing again, which made Steve’s heart start fluttering wildly for some reason.

Swallowing his mouthful of eggs, Steve said, “So, fourth gen military, huh?”  
  
“Yep. It was inevitable that I serve, I guess. As I said, my great-grandfather fought in World War 2, and my grandpa was a Vietnam vet. My dad served in Desert Storm in the early ‘90s. He was kind of offended when I joined the Marines instead of the army, but I think he’s pretty proud of me now.”

“He should be. Your record is outstanding.”

You blushed, but before you could respond, Bucky and Sam entered the kitchen, bickering as usual. Steve was watching you intently, so he couldn’t help but notice your eyes widen with shock and your mouth open when you saw Bucky. Bucky turned and quirked an eyebrow at you when he felt your eyes on him, causing you to drop your spoon with a clatter onto the breakfast bar. “Oh, my God,” you whispered.

_Oh, shit_ , thought Steve. _She’s going to freak out about Buck._

And you did. Just not in the way that he anticipated.

You shot out of your seat and raced over to Bucky, grabbed his metal hand and started shaking it wildly. “Oh. My. GOD! Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes of the 107th! It is such an honour to finally meet you up close and personal. You are my hero!”

_What the fuck?_

Bucky, Sam and Steve all stared at you in surprise. “Um, what?” Bucky asked in some confusion.

“You are, like, the best sniper in the world! When I was recommended for sniper training, I read about all of your exploits throughout the entirety of your career. I’ve tried my best to emulate you, Sergeant, but I really don’t think I’m ever going to come close to matching you. The stuff you’ve done over the years is amazing!”  
  
“What the hell are you talking about?” Bucky stared at your hand, which was still holding his metal one. You had absolutely no qualms about touching it, and that raised some serious questions about your mental abilities as far as he was concerned.

You continued almost breathlessly. “I mean, sure, some if it was evil as fuck but that doesn’t detract at all from the fact that it was also tactically brilliant. I can appreciate the stuff you did purely from a technical point of view, even if I do think it was fucked up. But that wasn’t your fault. That was all because of those fuckers at HYDRA and oh my God, you probably don’t want to hear anything about HYDRA now that you’re an Avenger and I’m completely babbling and you are going to think I’m an absolute idiot so I’m just going to crawl into a hole and die of embarrassment now…”

Your voice faded away to a whisper as you stared at Bucky in horror as you realised what you’d said.

To your surprise, Bucky started laughing. “Doll, that is probably the most backhanded compliment anybody has ever given me.” He grinned at you. “Also, I’ve never heard a girl swear as much as you just did.”

“Shit, I’m so sorry! Oh, fuck, I just did it again! Sorry, I tend to swear when I’m nervous. It’s not at all ladylike, but then you’ve probably worked out already that I ain’t no lady.”

Sam snorted. “Well, if we didn’t know before, we certainly do now." 

Steve stared at you, still holding Bucky’s hand. You weren’t frightened of him in the slightest. In fact, you had just admitted how much you admired his best friend – even whilst he’d been the Winter Soldier. The other Avengers had remained wary of Bucky when he’d first returned from Wakanda after having his trigger words removed, with some of them still yet to warm up to him completely, but you were immediately openly accepting of him.

If Steve hadn’t thought you were wonderful before, this little act would have instantly made you his second favourite person in the world.

Bucky finally managed to extricate his hand from yours, and smiled at you. “Birdbrain and I were just heading to the gym for some training. You’re welcome to join us if you like.”

“Are you fucking kidding me? That would be awesome!” you squealed. Turning red, you coughed with embarrassment and replied, with much more dignity, “I mean, thank you very much for your offer, Sergeant Barnes. I would be honoured to train with you and Mr Wilson.”  
  
Sam hooted with laughter. “ _Mr Wilson?_ Girl, you gotta call me Sam. Ain’t no way I’m gonna respond to Mr Wilson.”

Bucky’s smile widened. “And call me Bucky. Nobody calls me Sergeant anymore.”  
  
You beamed at both men. “Alright. Sam, Bucky, please call me Y/N.”

“Sure thing, Cupcake. Get changed and we’ll meet you in the gym in, say, fifteen minutes?” Sam said.

You nodded. When they left the kitchen, you started tidying up your breakfast dishes. Steve joined you, the two of you working in companionable silence. Once everything had been put away, you started to head back to your room to change into your gym clothes. Steve followed you.

“So, will you be joining us in the gym, Captain?” you asked as the two of you walked down the corridor of the living quarters of the Compound.

“Sure. I could use a workout, and it will be good to see what you can do.”  
  
“Oh, so you want to try and discover my weaknesses, huh?” you teased.

“It’s always good to know what you’re working with,” he smiled. Steve suddenly remembered something you’d mentioned to Bucky. “You said you always swear when you’re nervous.”  
  
“Yep. I can’t help it. I have four older brothers, and spent all my life around army guys, so I’ve learned more cuss words than a good girl really ought to know.” You stopped outside the door of your rooms, which were at the other end of the hall to Steve’s.

“You didn’t swear when you were talking to me.”  
  
You considered that. “Huh. Yeah, for some reason I’m not nervous talking to you. It feels kind of like I’ve known you my whole life. Is that weird?”  
  
“Nope. I feel the same way.” And it was true. For all that you made Steve’s palms sweaty, it wasn’t because he didn’t know how to talk to you. For once in his life, he had absolutely no difficulty with knowing what to say to someone of the opposite sex.

No, his nerves were for another reason entirely. Something he wasn’t really sure he wanted to examine too closely right now.

“Cool. Well, I’ll see you down in the gym shortly, Captain.”  
  
“Nuh uh.” He grinned at your puzzled frown. “Nobody calls me Captain unless we’re on a mission. If we’re going to be friends, then I insist that you call me Steve.”

You returned his grin with a bright smile of your own. “Alright. Steve it is. But that means that you need to call me Y/N. None of this Lieutenant crap. I’m retired, remember?”

“Once a Marine, always a Marine, Y/N,” he said. “Now move your ass, the gym is waiting.”

You saluted him smartly. “Yes, sir, Captain Rogers, sir!” Then with a cheeky wink, which seemed to be your default setting when dealing with him, you headed into your apartment to change.

Steve shook his head. Great. Now he had _another_ smartass to deal with.

Heaven help him.


	3. I Just Want To Know You Better

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve discovers more about you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The bit about your older brothers is based on this post: https://i.pinimg.com/originals/d3/7d/15/d37d1572c47eca140127ff814aa483d8.jpg
> 
> Just a reminder that the reader’s character is a mashup of Helen Mirren’s character in “Red” and Christian Bale’s in “Equilibrium.” She’s also very heavily based on my favourite Shadowrun character that I played for years that I had amazing stats for. In other words, she’s fucking awesome.

As Natasha, Bucky and Clint were unquestionably the best shots on the team, the three of them dragged you down to the gun range to see what you could do. Steve tagged along, justifying his presence by reminding himself that as the unofficial leader of the team, it was necessary for him to assess your skills for himself in order to determine who you would work with most effectively, as well as what capacity you would best be suited for on missions.

They had all been suitably impressed with your gun skills. Bucky in particular was awestruck with the speed at which you could change the clip in your pistol. You managed to change the clip in your gun three times before he and Nat were halfway through their second. It was equivalent to the speed with which Clint was able to aim and release his arrows.

And when Bucky realised that you might just be better than him with a sniper rifle, Steve thought the jerk was going to propose to you then and there.

Steve had watched the four of you during target practice, admiring the ruthless efficiency that all of you displayed. However, while you all shared a similarly formidable level of accuracy, it was clear that your reflexes were far quicker than the others.

When he commented on it as you were cleaning your gun, you shrugged. “Enhanced abilities. I think it’s the main reason why nobody objected to a teenage girl undertaking sniper training as a rookie, despite the fact that women still weren’t able to serve in combat at that stage.”

“When did you realise you were enhanced?” Steve asked as the two of you headed to the common area of the Compound.

“Around the age of fourteen. I’ve always had a good eye – my dad always made us do target practice regularly – but I used to fumble with the ammo a lot. Then one day, just like that, I could change a clip quicker than you can blink. Dad insisted that all of that practice finally paid off,” you laughed.

“It probably didn’t hurt,” Steve said.

Peter found the two of you. “Excuse me, Miss Trigger, ma’am.” You giggled at the teen’s overly polite manner of addressing you. “Miss Romanoff wants you in the training room. She says we need to see your hand-to-hand stuff.”  
  
“Sure thing, Peter.” You turned to Steve. “Guess I’d better get my ass down there. You coming?”  
  
“Wouldn’t miss it for the world, doll.”

***********************************************

You were proud that you had not embarrassed yourself too badly when facing off against both Black Widow and the Winter Soldier in close combat, given that you were considerably better at fighting from a distance. You were going to have more than a few bruises, but Nat had only flipped you onto your back twice, and both she and Bucky had nodded with approval whenever you managed to get the odd good hit on them.

The rest of the team was watching, assessing your fighting style. You were a strange mix of ballet-like grace, cat-like reflexes, and no-holds-barred fisticuffs, together with an impressive array of dirty tricks. It was difficult to gauge the best strategy to negate your skills, given that there was no discernible pattern that they could determine. Steve in particular found it frustrating.

When you’d finally stepped out of the ring, Steve had asked where you learned to fight the way you did.

“Well, I have four older brothers,” you shrugged, unwrapping the bandages from your wrists.  
  
“Really?”  
  
“Yep. Robert played first table on the school chess team; Christopher starts crying every time he hears a sad song; Sebastian rocks a cocktail dress and six-inch heels better than I do; and Tom did ballet instead of football. We grew up in a small town, and I sure as hell wasn’t going to let anybody give them any shit for any of that. So I had to learn how to beat up people bigger than me from a pretty early age.”  
  
You took a swig from your water bottle as you saw several pairs of eyes staring at you with awestruck fascination. To everyone’s surprise, you burst out laughing.

“Oh my God! You all actually believed that? Shit, when you guys all get on the Quinjet it’s going to have to be renamed ‘Gullible’s Travels’,” you snickered.

Tony looked put out. “You lied to us?”  
  
“Well, not about the four older brothers. Just the part about them all being the complete opposite of what’s considered masculine.”

“So, your brothers taught you how to fight?” Pietro asked.

You nodded. “I kinda had to learn pretty quick. They used to beat me up all the time, so I had to learn how to fight back. Dad always used to say, ‘Girlie, if you wanna play with the big boys, you gotta learn to keep up with ‘em.’ So I did.”

You flopped onto your side on the mats, stretching your quads as you did so. Steve did his best not to stare while you stretched. “Besides, my youngest brother is five years older than I am. I couldn’t rely on them to protect me at school. They taught me how to defend myself.”  
  
“Well, that many brothers certainly explains all the sneaky shit you tried to pull,” Natasha said. She’d been impressed by your ingenuity. She knew you wouldn’t be able rely on brute strength to win, and appreciated your willingness to do whatever it took to beat your opponent.

“I learned pretty early on that if I wanted to win, I had to be sneaky. Seb’s the easiest one to get the better of. All I have to do is turn on the waterworks and he’s putty in my hands. He never could resist a damsel in distress, even if it is only his annoying baby sister,” you grinned. 

“So rule number one around you is always be on your guard,” Steve surmised, as he offered you a hand to get back to your feet.

“My oldest brother Robert always says, ‘If Y/N’s smiling, she’s up to something’. He never trusts me. So hurtful,” you pouted. The rest of the team laughed. It was obvious that you actually adored your older brothers, and they suspected that your siblings felt the same way about you.

“Damn, I wish we’d known you in the ‘40s. You could have taught Stevie a thing or ten,” laughed Bucky. “He was always getting into fights he had no idea how to get out of.”  
  
“He still does that,” grinned Sam.

“Well, Captain, I’d be more than happy to give you a few pointers if you ever feel like learning how to get down and dirty,” you said, eyes wide and deceptively innocent, as you headed out of the gym.

Steve nearly choked on the sudden breath he inhaled.

***********************************************

“So, four brothers huh? That must have been hell growing up.” You and Steve were sitting in the common room, sharing a bag of Doritos while trying to find something decent to watch on Netflix.

“Yep. Older brothers are the only people who will beat you up for their own entertainment, but heaven help anybody else who even thinks about laying a finger on you.”  
  
Steve smiled at you. “Tell me about them.”  
  
You seemed surprised. “You want to know about my brothers?”  
  
He nodded. “I want to learn more about what helped to shape you into the person you are today. Clearly, your family played a pretty significant role in that.”

“Hmmmm. Well, where do I start? You already know that the military is kind of in my family’s blood. My family moved around a lot when Dad was in the army, so it made it hard for my brothers to make friends when they were kids. But he retired when I was only a couple of years old, and we moved back to the town where he and my mother grew up.”

You took the bottle of soda that Steve offered you, taking a sip before you continued. “Our mother died when I was only five, so I was raised by five men. It’s probably why I’m the least girly girl there is. I prefer jeans to dresses, and combat boots to stilettos. I know nothing about hairstyles or makeup or anything like that. I’m much less deadly with a gun than I am with a curling iron.”

Steve laughed. You were the biggest tomboy he’d ever met, and yet you were still undeniably feminine in your own way. The hair flicks; your ability to cry at the drop of a hat; the way you’d bat your eyelashes or pout to get your own way. The sassy way you'd cock one hip when standing with your arms crossed in front of your chest, whenever you were listening to Fury or Coulson. And that flirtatious little sway of your hips when you walked; Steve was positive that you weren't even aware of the effect it had on several members of the team. Bucky and Pietro in particular practically drooled if they were walking behind you.

You’d been with the team for a little over two weeks and already had most of them wrapped around your little finger. Steve was especially horrified to discover that he would do just about anything you requested, without question, if your bottom lip started quivering. It was a dirty trick, and he knew it, and yet he’d found himself powerless to resist it.

What was worse, he realised that he didn’t really _want_ to resist it.

You scrolled through your phone to bring up photos of your brothers, pointing them out to Steve as you described each of them in turn.

“Like I said, I was pretty much raised by my brothers. I was the baby of the family, so they all had to help Dad look after me. Robert’s the oldest, he’s twelve years older than me. He joined the army straight out of high school, did a couple of tours and then decided that he’d rather go to college and get a business degree. He’s running his own tech company now. Nothing on the scale of Stark Industries of course, but he’s doing alright for himself. Although, last time I spoke to him, he was considering quitting it all and buying a farm somewhere. Apparently he wants a flock of llamas,” you laughed.

You adjusted your position so that you were sitting cross-legged on the couch, facing Steve. “Christopher is the second oldest, he’s ten years my senior. He was in the army the longest; he only retired a couple of years ago. I think he’s got political aspirations. He’s very critical of Secretary Ross, so I have a feeling he’s going to put his name up for nomination so that he can try to help shape future policy.”  
  
Your brother had been appalled at the propositions outlined in the Sokovia Accords, feeling that Secretary Ross had been using them as an excuse to flex his political muscle and use the Avengers and other enhanced individuals as a tool to wage his own personal vendettas against those who he felt had wronged him. You had agreed with Christopher, and both of you had been relieved when the Accords had eventually undergone significant amendments, thanks to the input of Colonel Rhodes.

“Then there’s Sebastian. He’s the one I’m closest to, even though there’s seven years difference between us. Seb was always the one that I’d turn to if I scraped my knee, or needed driving lessons, or got my heart broken by a boy. He’s actually part of the UN Peacekeeping Corps. I don’t get to see him very often, because he fell in love with a Romanian girl so he lives there now, when he’s not required to undertake his peacekeeping duties. We try to Skype at least once every couple of weeks when he’s not deployed.”

You showed the final photo to Steve as you told him about your youngest brother. “Tom is five years older than me, and always took great delight in reminding me that he was my big brother. That stopped the day that he realised that I was the exact same height as him. I think I was thirteen at the time. We’re the same height, but we never see eye to eye,” you grinned as Steve snorted at your terrible pun.

“Tom’s the only one that hasn’t served. He’s a pacifist, so he refuses to even look at a gun. I wasn’t lying when I said he was a dancer, but he does contemporary rather than ballet. He’s running his own dance studio now. Dad was really proud of him for sticking to his passion, even though everybody else in town thought he was a sissy. But Tom’s always been able to stand up for himself, so people soon learned to keep their opinions to themselves.”

Steve watched your face light up with love as you described your family. It was obvious how important they were to you. He hoped that the team would come to mean just as much to you. After all, they would pretty much become your second family, so it was vital that everyone cared for each other.  
  
“So, those are the losers that helped turn me into the woman you see today. You have my full permission to blame them entirely for any serious character defects in my personality.”

“On the contrary,” Steve replied. “I think they did a remarkable job. Especially given what they had to work with.”  
  
Your mouth hung open as you noticed the grin on Steve’s face. “Did I just get insulted by Captain America?”

He shrugged. “The Avengers are a family. I’m just trying to make you feel at home.”  
  
“Fine. Well, then, if you’re going to treat me like part of the family…”  
  
Steve realised he hadn’t really thought things through when you grabbed him in a headlock and gave him a noogie. _Your brothers really had taught you well_ , he thought, even as he laughingly begged for mercy.


	4. I Know Something Now I Didn’t Before

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You discover Steve’s ‘list’, and take it upon yourself to bring him up-to-date with the modern world, only to discover that he might not be as out-of-touch as everybody else thinks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Partly inspired by this post:  
> https://i.pinimg.com/564x/f5/f9/2b/f5f92b8d6838bac59dc58aca4c0de822.jpg

Steve paused as he heard the music coming from your rooms. It wasn’t like anything he’d heard so far. But then, he still had a lot of catching up to do.

_Yesterday I got so old,_  
_I felt like I could die,_  
 _Yesterday I got so old,_  
 _It made me want to cry_

_Go on, go on,_   
_Just walk away_   
_Go on, go on,_   
_Your choice is made_   
_Go on, go on,_   
_And disappear_   
_Go on, go on,_   
_Away from here_

_And I know I was wrong,_  
_When I said it was true,_  
 _That it couldn't be me,_  
 _And be her in between,_  
 _Without you,_  
 _Without you_

Knocking on your door, he hoped fervently that he wasn’t interrupting anything. You greeted him with a huge smile. “Hey, Steve! What can I do for you?”  
  
“I was just passing, and I heard the music. I was just curious about what it was.”  
  
“Oh! This is _‘In Between Days’_ by The Cure. Alternative band from the ‘80s. Very cool. My oldest brother Robert loves them.” You dragged Steve into your apartment and ordered him to sit on the couch so that he could listen more closely.

“It’s very… different. It’s not like anything I’ve ever heard before.” It wasn’t _unpleasant_ , exactly, but Steve wasn’t certain that this was the type of music he would choose to listen to for prolonged periods of time.

You noticed the slight look of distaste on his face. “I can change the music if you like.”

He shook his head. “No, no, of course not! You listen to whatever you like. I just don’t think I’ll add these guys to my list.’

You raised an eyebrow. “Your list?”  
  
Steve’s ears turned pink. “I have a list of things that I’m trying to catch up on so that I can gain a better understanding of what I missed out on over the past few decades.” He dug a small notebook out of his pocket and handed it to you.

“I’ve already learned that I really like Elvis, and I prefer the Rolling Stones to the Beatles. I haven’t finished the ‘60s yet,” he advised.  
  
Your eyes gleamed. “Oh, my dear Steve. I can most definitely help you with your musical education, at least. Being the youngest of five kids means that I was subjected to a wide range of genres, and therefore my musical taste is extremely eclectic.”

“Doll, I’d really appreciate it. There’s just so much to look out for, I’m not really sure where to start.”  
  
“OK, well, I’ll just play a few songs from each decade to give you an idea of what to expect, and you can use that as a basis to search out similar stuff if you like?”  
  
He nodded. “Sounds good.”  
  
“FRIDAY, can you please play a few tracks from my ‘70s playlist for Captain Rogers?”  
  
“Certainly, Lieutenant.”

The opening notes of Fleetwood Mac’s _‘Go Your Own Way’_ sounded, and Steve’s eyes widened in recognition. “I know this one! Clint played it for me a while back. I really like it.”  
  
Steve tried to pay attention to what he liked, but everything was so very different to the sort of music he grew up with. The synthetic pop and disco sounds of many of the ‘70s songs were a complete departure to the jangling guitars he’d become used to while listening to tunes from the ‘50s and ‘60s.

It soon became apparent to you that Steve much preferred rock to pop, so you decided to skip the ‘80s altogether and head straight to the ‘90s. Scanning his list, you noticed he’d written down the name of one of the defining bands of that decade. “Nirvana is alright, but if you ask me, the best band of the grunge era was Stone Temple Pilots. Scott Weiland's voice was perfection.”

FRIDAY started playing _‘Interstate Love Song.’_

_Waiting on a Sunday afternoon_  
_For what I read between the lines_  
 _Your lies_  
 _Feelin' like a hand in rusted shame_  
 _So do you laugh at those who cry?_  
 _Reply?_

_Leavin' on a southern train_   
_Only yesterday you lied,_   
_Promises of what I seemed to be_   
_Only watched the time go by_   
_All of these things you said to me_

Steve dutifully wrote in his notebook next to Nirvana – ‘Grunge era’. He decided he liked the style. It was very earthy and raw, and for some reason he found himself wishing he’d been a teenager when this sort of music had become popular. He had a feeling it would have made him feel like less of an outsider.

You asked Steve if you could put some suggestions in his notebook, and he graciously advised that he trusted your judgement. You snorted softly. He might not agree if he followed your suggestions faithfully.

He skimmed through the notebook when you handed it back to him, admiring your tiny, neat writing. _Led Zeppelin, The Eagles, Queen, Bon Jovi/big hair rock, Smashing Pumpkins, Foo Fighters, Green Day, Panic! At The Disco…_

“Well, doll, I should probably get going,” Steve said. Although part of him desperately wanted to stay with you for as long as possible, he felt that he’d imposed on your hospitality long enough.

“OK. If you ever want to catch up on anything else, you know where to find me,” you offered.

Thanking you for the impromptu music lesson, Steve took his leave and went back to his own rooms to try to discover what he liked for himself.

After much research, he decided his favourite band in the world was Led Zeppelin, although he also quite enjoyed Pearl Jam. He most definitely did not like hip hop or sugary pop tunes – anything with a heavy beat or autotune was immediately disregarded. And he found that, although he hadn’t really liked The Cure, he had an affinity for The Smiths.

He’d also discovered ABBA after you had jokingly added them to the list of ‘70s music he should listen to, and had surprised himself by enjoying their music rather a lot, despite the fact that it was pop music. He kept that to himself though. He had a sneaking suspicion that the rest of the team would tease him mercilessly if they knew.

***********************************************

“What do you mean, you like _Star Wars_ better than _Star Trek_?” Peter Parker looked absolutely scandalised, as if he had been personally betrayed. Although he had helped his best friend Ned build a Lego Death Star and could quote _The Empire Strikes Back_ almost verbatim, Peter was most definitely a Trekkie.

“Look, _Star Trek_ is alright. I just happen to think that the _Star Wars_ universe is so much more detailed. And the parallels between the Empire and the Nazis that I fought just make it that much more relevant to me,” Steve explained. Bucky nodded his agreement. Peter spluttered with indignation.

You had been delighted to discover that both super-soldiers enjoyed the saga set a long time ago in a galaxy far, far away, and had therefore decreed that any free time the three of you had would be spent catching them up on the Skywalker saga. Steve would stretch out on your couch with his head in your lap and a bowl of popcorn on his stomach, and Bucky would sprawl on his stomach on the floor, the two of them riveted as the series played on your TV.

They had both enjoyed the prequels, having not grown up as part of the generation that saw the original trilogy first, so they didn’t understand why Clint and Scott objected to them so strongly. They readily agreed that the series improved from Episode IV onwards, though. Bucky had been so shocked when he discovered who Luke Skywalker’s father was that he couldn’t speak for a full ten minutes afterwards. Steve was adamant that he saw it coming from a mile away, and fervently denied the gasp that you were certain you heard escape from his lips when it was revealed.

Steve had tagged along with you when _Rogue One_ was released, and was horrified at the ending. “All of them? Seriously? Every single fucking one?” That was the first time you’d ever heard Captain America swear (but it was definitely not the last). He and Bucky had howled with outrage when Kylo Ren had killed Han Solo in Episode VII, and wanted Rey to kill him in the final chapter. No matter how hard you tried, you could not convince them that Rey and Kylo would eventually unite to bring balance to the Force.

Now that Cap and Bucky were all caught up with that particular saga – as well as _Harry Potter_ and _Lord of the_ Rings - the team were desperately trying to reach a consensus about what to watch for the regular team movie night. Sam had suggested a rom-com and had been laughed at for ten minutes by Natasha. Wanda had requested a French film, but both Tony and Scott had objected to needing to read subtitles. Bruce refused to watch anything excessively violent, which meant that _The Godfather_ and _Die Hard_ movies were out. None of the team wanted to watch a horror film, because nobody wanted to deal with the inevitable nightmares that would occur for the next two weeks afterward.

Finally, Rhodey declared that it was time to watch _Top Gun_ , as both he and Carol Danvers had been US Air Force pilots, and he felt it was time to watch something that he could relate to for a change. Carol was visiting the team for a few weeks, and heartily agreed that some ‘80s nostalgia would be appreciated. Natasha and you both agreed, and Clint teased the two of you for only wanting to watch the beach volleyball scene.

“Well, duh,” you admitted. “Watching gorgeous half-naked men sweating on a beach for my viewing pleasure? Yes please.” Nat nodded enthusiastically, as did Carol and Wanda.

Bruce tried to be cool by quoting the most famous phrase from the movie. “I feel the need, the need for expeditious velocity.”  
  
Tony snorted. “Banner, did you just Science Bro the _Top Gun_ quote?” Bruce gave a sheepish grin while most of the others hooted with laughter.

As had become the movie night ritual since you became an Avenger, Steve sat next to you in the movie room, an enormous bowl of popcorn nestled between the two of you. “So do you think I’m going to enjoy this one, doll?” he asked as he wrapped an arm around your shoulders.  
  
“Buckle up, Cap, you’re in for a fun ride,” you whispered as FRIDAY dimmed the lights.

***********************************************

It had taken you a few months, but eventually you realised something.

Steve Rogers was an absolute fucking troll.

Granted, he was extremely subtle about it, and he only targeted certain members of the team. But still, it was rather disconcerting to discover that the All-American hero had a streak of mischief in him five miles wide. 

The first time you suspected something amiss was when Director Fury was complaining, once again, that Steve had texted an _entire fucking essay_ to him. “Rogers, you do realise that I don’t have time to read a thousand word message from you, don’t you? There’s a reason that I specifically requested all text messages stick to a one hundred and twenty character limit.”  
  
“I’m sorry, Director. It’s just that I still can’t quite get the hang of all that new-fangled text speak. I guess I’m still used to writing things on paper rather than on these modern electronic gizmos.” Steve’s bright blue eyes shone with innocence.

Fury glared at him with his good eye. “Look, you don’t have to write your text messages as if you are delivering a speech. Just keep it brief, to the point, the fewer words the better. Can you do that for me, Rogers?”

“I’ll do my best, Director,” Steve promised earnestly.

“And maybe get Parker to help you get up to speed with the whole text-speak thing. He’s a kid, he’s all up on that ‘new-fangled’ stuff.”

“I’ll make sure to do that, sir.” The sincerity dripped from Steve’s voice.

Another glare. “And just a reminder that LOL is not short for ‘Little Old Lady’, and WTF most definitely _does not_ stand for ‘Well, That’s Fantastic’.” Fury left the conference room with a swish of his trench coat.

You quirked an eyebrow at Steve. “What the hell was that all about? You know perfectly well how to text-speak. The last text I got from you contained nothing but emojis.”  
  
He grinned at you. “I overheard Fury telling Coulson that he wished the team would provide more detail in our text messages so that he can get the full picture. I just thought I’d give him what he wanted.”

The next time you noticed him messing with another team member was when Tony burst into Steve’s rooms, looking pained. “Capsicle, you did it again.”  
  
“Did what again?” Steve asked in a panicked tone.  
  
“You put your Google search in your Facebook status. You do realise that the public can see what you search for when you do that, don’t you?” 

Tony pulled out his StarkPad and pulled up Steve’s official Captain America Facebook page. Sure enough, his page was filled with status updates such as _“Where is the flying car that Howard Stark promised me?”, “Can Nick Fury read my internet?”, “Modern day slang”_ and _“Hello, my name is Steve Rogers and I would like to order a delivery from a diner. Thank you.”_ These were often preceded by http://, meaning that Steve was trying to search for actual web sites based on the questions he’d entered.

“Oh, darn. I keep forgetting where the search bar is. Why doesn’t it actually say ‘Search’ up the top?” Steve looked contrite. “Sorry, Tony. The internet is just so confusing.”

Tony pinched the bridge of his nose. “Spangles, if you want to do a Google search, just ask FRIDAY to get the info for you. Leave Facebook for just updating everybody about what you ate for breakfast. Better yet, leave Facebook altogether and just let our PR team handle the social media for you.”  
  
Steve nodded. “That might be for the best. Thanks, Tony.”

After Tony left the room, you stared at Steve. “I take it that Tony doesn’t know about your Instagram account?”

Steve’s preferred social media account contained pictorial updates about his duties as Captain America (except of course for confidential information), photos of him with either yourself, Bucky or Sam, inspirational quotes, and sketches he’d done.  
  
A shake of his head. “Nope. I haven’t mentioned it to him. I don’t think that he knows that I know what Instagram even is.”

The final straw came when you saw Steve standing in front of the coffee machine, a look of consternation on his handsome face. “I can never remember where to put the coffee in this thing. Is it in this bit here?”  
  
Steve pointed to the water dispenser, causing Clint to leap over the kitchen bench in alarm. “ _No!_ Don’t touch it Cap, let me do it. Otherwise you’ll blow it up and Stark will throw a tantrum. He’s still not over you breaking the last one.”  
  
Steve stood with his hands on his hips, glaring at the archer. “In my defense, it was five in the morning and the thing hissed at me. I wasn’t awake enough to realise that it was making coffee. I thought Loki had turned it into a snake again.”

Clint shoved Steve out of the way and muttered under his breath about ‘old people’ as he appointed himself official coffee maker that morning. Once the coffee had brewed, he handed both Steve and yourself a large mug of coffee, which you thanked him for, before he stalked away with the rest of the pot, still muttering.

You followed Steve out of the kitchen as he sipped his coffee with perfect nonchalance. “Why are you pretending to be such a techno-boob, Steve? You know perfectly well how to use all of this tech.”

He grinned and ushered you into his rooms. “FRIDAY, can you upload the latest footage for me?”  
  
“Certainly, Captain Rogers,” the AI responded pleasantly.

“What footage? What are you talking about?” you asked suspiciously. 

“Can you keep a secret, doll?” he asked conspiratorially.

“What kind of a secret? Like, are we talking a ‘matter of national security’ secret or just a ‘shut up and enjoy the ride’ sort of secret?”  
  
“The second one.” Steve sat at his desk and went to YouTube. You were stunned to discover that he had an account titled _“How long can I keep my friends convinced I have no idea what technology is?”_ It was filled with dozens of videos.

You stared at Steve. “Are you telling me that all this time, you have just been gaming the team for YouTube hits?”  
  
He grinned at you. “Only the ones that think I’m stupid when it comes to tech. So Tony, Fury, Bruce, Parker and Clint.”

“Thank God you’re at least smart enough not to include Natasha in that group.”  
  
His grin grew wider. “Who do you think showed me how to set up a YouTube account? She helped me after I told her what I wanted to do.”

You snorted as you searched the videos, laughing as you realised that the public seemed to adore the fact that Steve Rogers, America’s favourite superhero, was an A-grade troublemaker. Your eyes widened. “Holy shit!”

“What?” Steve asked in alarm. 

You turned your stupefied expression towards him. “You have over _30 million_ hits just on the _‘How do I make the Google do the thing?’_ video!”

He looked proud. “Yeah, that one is my favourite. Tony still hasn’t discovered this page yet. Bucky thinks it’s hilarious.”

“Of course he does.”

Steve had a gleam in his eye. “You know what we should do, doll?”  
  
“What?” you asked warily.

“Next time Tony’s out of the Compound, we should get everyone to draw names out of a hat, and whoever’s name we pull out, we have to dress like them. Then we all pretend that Loki body-swapped us accidentally when one of his spells goes wrong, and when Tony comes back it will completely mess him up.”  
  
“Steve Rogers, you are absolutely evil. Loki is going to love it.” You grabbed his hand and dragged him towards the trickster’s rooms to discuss the details of what had the potential to be an epic prank on the team’s worst prankster.

Poor Tony never did figure out that the entire team had ganged up on him with that particular stunt.


	5. All My Walls, I’ll Take ‘Em Down For You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You help Steve when he is in trouble, and he discovers that sometimes, it is okay to let somebody else be the strong one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is based on this post.  
> https://i.pinimg.com/originals/f8/50/e0/f850e0e943cdee933b7bf0247891d0e4.jpg

Steve returned to the Compound just before dawn, feeling more wretched than he had in months. His solo mission hadn’t been a particularly difficult one, but he’d been travelling for nearly twelve hours straight and he was completely exhausted. He had been so tired that he’d collapsed face first onto his bed and fallen asleep almost immediately, not even bothering to take off his combat suit or boots beforehand.

When he peeled his eyes open a few hours later, due to the sun rather rudely shining through the partially open blinds and therefore directly onto his face, he groaned when he noticed that it was just before 9am. He’d only managed about three hours of sleep, and it was his turn to spar with you in the gym today. When he’d contacted the team to let them know he was on his way back, he’d promised that he’d meet you in the gym at nine, so that only gave him a few minutes to get ready.

Sitting up, Steve stretched, wincing slightly as his shoulders popped. _Up and at ‘em, Rogers,_ he told himself. Grabbing workout clothes, he headed to the bathroom for a quick shower before the gym.

As he stepped under the spray, he was not expecting the icy cold blast of water which greeted him. It shocked him so much that he collapsed on the floor of the shower, gasping for breath. He could feel the air freezing in his lungs.

He managed to turn off the water and stumbled out of the shower, grabbing a towel from the rack as he fell, before curling into a ball on the floor and sobbing as he was hit with a relentless wave of panic.

***********************************************

The living quarters of the Compound had been without hot water for several days, thanks to a burst water pipe. Tony had assured everyone that the hot water would be restored as soon as possible, but the plumber he’d requested had yet to arrive. Bucky was starting to feel stabby at the inability to use his own bathroom.

Luckily, the showers in the gym were located in a different part of the Compound and were therefore not affected. Thankfully, there was no chance of running out of hot water down there.

You’d decided this morning to shower in the gym prior to your workout with Steve, as you didn’t really function efficiently without one. You would definitely need another one post-workout, but it’s not like Tony couldn’t afford to pay the water bill.

After you’d successfully turned back into a functional human being, you’d spent the time warming up while waiting for Steve to arrive. A light jog on the treadmill, some stretches, and you were good to go.

Glancing at your watch, you realised that Steve was nearly twenty minute late. Even though he’d arrived back in the early hours of the morning, he’d assured you that he would be ready to train with you, and he was always punctual. Even with only a few hours of sleep under his belt. You decided to wait another ten minutes. If he kept you waiting for half an hour then you knew he was probably still asleep.

Eventually, you decided that Steve had obviously slept through his alarm, and although you knew you should probably let him rest, you had really been looking forward to sparring with him.

Making your decision, you left the gym and headed towards Steve’s apartment. You would drag him into the gym kicking and screaming if you had to, and you were damn well going to kick his ass for making you wait. 

***********************************************

You knocked on Steve’s door. “Steve? You awake?”

No answer. You knocked again, a bit louder this time. “Rise and shine, Captain. Time for you to kick my ass down in the gym.”  
  
Still no response. “FRIDAY, is Captain Rogers in his rooms?”  
  
“Yes, he is in the bathroom, Lieutenant Y/L/N.”

“Oh,” you said, blushing slightly. “Alright, I’ll leave him to finish getting ready and…”  
  
“He appears to be in some distress, Lieutenant,” the AI interrupted. 

“Distress?”  
  
“His heart rate is elevated, his breathing is extremely rapid and shallow, and he is unresponsive to my repeated attempts to attract his attention.”

It sounded to you like Steve was suffering some sort of panic attack. You’d dealt with your fair share of them during your time in the military, so you recognized the signs. You didn’t realise that he was prone to them, as he’d never mentioned anything about suffering from them. You knew that Bucky still suffered from the treatment he’d endured whilst a captive of HYDRA; Tony denied the existence of his very obvious PTSD; and most of the others had at least acknowledged that they have some form of trauma as a cause of their chosen career. Even you had therapy to assist with your own anxiety. But Steve always seemed so unflappable.

“FRIDAY, can you override the lock, please?” you asked urgently. You didn’t have access to Steve’s rooms without his permission, but you were certain that he would overlook it in this instance.

Thankfully, the AI acceded to your request and you stepped into Steve’s rooms. The sight that greeted you was a shock. You had expected a pristine room, with everything in its place and looking neat as a pin, given his military background. Instead, you were greeted by the sight of dirty clothes all over the floor, a bed that looked as if it hadn’t been made in a month, dirty dishes on the coffee table and… oh, dear lord, were those… those were fucking boxer shorts hanging from the bedside lamp.

Ugh. Captain America had clearly never heard of a laundry hamper.

Pushing aside your disgust at the state of his room, you called out to Steve so that he wouldn’t be startled by your sudden appearance.

“Steve? Are you here? It’s Y/N.” You didn’t hear any response to your question, so you gingerly made your way through the pile of dirty laundry strewn haphazardly around the apartment, and headed in the direction of the bathroom.

You could hear a soft noise coming from the bathroom. It sounded almost like a sob. Your worry for your friend immediately drove out every other thought.

Knocking softly on the bathroom door, you called to Steve, only to be greeted by more muffled sobs. Concern overrode any possible embarrassment you might otherwise have felt in regard to barging into another person’s bathroom whilst they were in a possible state of undress. “Steve, I’m coming in.”  
  
You were not prepared for the sight in front of you. Steve was curled into a ball on the floor, a towel wrapped around his massive shoulders, barely covering them. One hand was curled into a fist and pressed into his mouth in a vain attempt to prevent the gasps escaping him. The sight of the large, shaking super-soldier in front of you was absolutely pitiful, and it broke your heart.

“Steve, sweetheart, you need to get up off the floor.” Crouching down, you tried to get him into a sitting position.  
  
“C-c-cold,” he chattered. “So c-c-c-cold.”  
  
“Okay, well if you come with me, we can get you warmed up again real quick.” Holding out a hand, you felt relieved when he grasped it. His hand was like ice. He held your hand as if it was a lifeline. Slowly, painfully, he got to his feet. You valiantly ignored the fact that a gloriously naked Steve Rogers was leaning most of his weight on you for support.

Leading him towards his bedroom, you grabbed a fluffy bathrobe and wrapped him in it, then ordered him to get into bed. Rummaging through his drawers, you managed to find a pair of flannel pyjamas and helped him out of the robe and into his sleepwear. You were grateful for the fact that he actually kept some on hand, knowing that he usually only slept in boxers as he normally ran hot thanks to the serum coursing through his veins.

Once Steve was back in bed, you searched his room for as many blankets as you could find, and piled them on top of him. Eventually, all you could see was the top of his blond head poking out from beneath his blanket nest. Thankfully, most of his sobs seemed to have subsided. Sleepy murmurs were emanating from within.

You bustled about in Steve’s kitchenette, searching for a clean mug. Finding milk that was still in date in his fridge, you heated some up in a saucepan on the stove, adding a liberal amount of chocolate which you had found in his cupboard. Once the chocolate had melted sufficiently and the milk was warmed, you poured it into the mug and added some marshmallows – you hadn’t known how much of a sugar junkie the Captain was – and padded back into his bedroom.

Steve was so tangled up in his blankets that you wondered how he didn’t suffocate. Gently peeling away the layers, you eventually found yourself looking into his blue eyes, which were still suspiciously red. He tried to glare at you, but the effect was reduced somewhat by the fact that he looked absolutely adorable as a super-soldier blanket burrito.

“Hey, soldier, I thought you could use something to help you feel better.” You waved the mug of chocolate under his nose, and he sniffed appreciatively. Slowly, he sat up, leaning against the headboard of his bed, still wrapped in numerous blankets. He gripped the mug so tightly you thought he might shatter it.

Steve eyed you warily when you started to take off your shirt and leggings, leaving you in just your sports bra and boyleg shorts.

“What are you doing, Y/N?” he squeaked as you crawled onto the bed.  
  
“You need warming up. Body heat is the best way to achieve that. Don’t worry, I’m not going to try to take advantage of you in your weakened state.” You smiled so that he knew you were teasing, and unwrapped some of the blankets. You crawled underneath them, causing Steve to stiffen slightly next to you. You ignored him as you rearranged them around the both of you, then wrapped an arm around his shoulders and squeezed him close. “You want to talk about it?”

Taking a small sip of his chocolate, Steve spoke more softly than you had ever heard in all the months you’d known him. “I went to have a sh-sh-shower when I woke up,” he chattered, obviously still cold. “I think I must have f-f-forgot to put the hot w-w-water on. I felt like I crashed b-b-back in the ice.”  
  
_Shit._ You forgot that Steve hadn’t known about the burst water pipe. “Oh, sweetie. The hot water in the living quarters has been out for the past week. No wonder you had a shock.”

“So c-c-c-cold.” His breath hitched, and his eyes started to water again.

“Well, I’m going to fix that. FRIDAY, can you please turn up the heat for Captain Rogers?”  
  
“Certainly, Lieutenant.”

Pressing a soft kiss to Steve’s forehead, you rubbed his back. Eventually he relaxed, snuggling up to you with a soft sigh. “So, you had a bit of a flashback, huh?”  
  
He nodded. “Yeah. I thought I was back in the ice. I couldn’t b-b-breathe. I couldn’t think. All I could do was feel my blood f-f-freezing in my veins.”  
  
“Where are you, Steve?” you asked, trying to keep him grounded.  
  
“C-c-cold,” he mumbled against your neck, although he seemed to have finally stopped shaking so violently.

“OK, but can you tell me where you are right now?”  
  
A few moments of silence, but you waited patiently. Eventually, he whispered, “The Avengers Facility. My room. With my… my best girl.”  
  
Clearly the shock had made him delirious. He’d obviously meant to say _best friend_. You let it slide. “Good. You know what we are going to do for the rest of the day?”  
  
“D-d-debriefing?”  
  
You snorted. “No, because I’m going to tell Fury to fuck off. He can wait until you’re better for his fucking debrief. No. We are going to stay in here snuggled under these blankets, and watch Disney movies all day, until you are nice and warm again. And we are going to eat way too much junk food and drink too much hot chocolate and just get completely high on sugar.”

A small huff of laughter warmed your heart. “And then tomorrow, you are taking the day off and we are going to spend the whole time enjoying the sunshine. Just you and me. We’ll go to the park, and you’ll take your sketchbook and be all artsy, and I’ll read some more of _Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban_ , and we’ll be interrupted every two minutes by people wanting your autograph or to take a picture with you, and you’ll give them a hug and pretend not to cry every single time it happens.”  
  
“I don’t cry.” The protest was weak and sounded slightly offended.  
  
“Sure you don’t, you big sap. So the two of us will be there, in the park, enjoying a picnic in the sunshine. You’ll feel it on your skin, all nice and warm, and you’ll forget all about being cold. Sound good?”  
  
“Yeah, that sounds great, doll.” Steve had his head against your chest, listening to your heartbeat, and you rested your chin on the top of his head.

Eventually, he sat up and took off his pyjama top, making you avert your gaze so you didn’t ogle. “I’m feeling a bit better now, Y/N.”  
  
“Alright, well then, I guess that’s my cue to exit.” You started to reach for your top, but Steve grabbed your wrist to stop you.

“Stay.” His voice still sounded shaky.

You furrowed your brow. “Are you sure? Do you want me to get changed?”  
  
He shook his head. “You’re fine just the way you are. Stay with me. Please.”  
  
Dammit. You never could resist it when he gave you the puppy dog eyes. They should not have affected you anywhere near as much as they did. Giving in with a sigh, you crawled back under the blankets.

“Are you sure this is okay, Steve?”

He hummed as he nestled against you once more. “It’s perfect, doll. Now, how about we watch _Inside Out_?”  
  
“Sounds great.” So you stayed.

After about half an hour, Steve said, “I’m sorry you had to see that, doll. I tried to get myself under control, but…”  
  
You hushed him by pressing a finger to his lips. “Steve, don’t you dare apologise for letting somebody see that you were scared. It is not a sign of weakness. Even the strongest of us need help sometimes. I’m just glad I was able to be here for you when you needed someone.”

You wrapped your arms around him, and he snuggled against you with a sigh of contentment.

Steve finally understood why Pietro and Wanda often went to you for assistance whenever they felt vulnerable after particularly difficult missions. You didn’t judge, or push him to talk, or tell him to snap out of it. You just let him know that you were there for him, no matter what. Your presence was soothing, and he felt how much you cared about him without you needing to say a word.

He was so used to always being the strong one, but it felt nice to let someone take care of him for a change. He thought that he might even get used to it, if it meant that he got to have moments like this. Especially if it was with you.

You made him feel safe, and Steve hadn’t felt safe in a very long time.


	6. All I Know Is Pouring Rain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You are injured on a mission, and Steve’s reaction causes those closest to you to jump to an incorrect conclusion about your relationship.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's taken me so long to update this one. I've been busy with uni, and also struggling to finish the final chapter in the way that I want. I know how I want the story to end, it's just the main part of the last chapter is not cooperating!
> 
> But study is now over for the year, so I'm hoping the muse strikes again soon.
> 
> Anyhoo, enjoy this chapter and hopefully the final one won't be too far behind it!
> 
> Thanks for all the loves to date :)

After successfully completing several smaller missions with Clint and Nat, your first mission with the entire team should have been fairly routine. Get into the HYDRA base, extract the necessary information, and get out again. 

Of course, because it was a HYDRA base, it turned out to be anything but routine.

For a start, the intel the team had received advising that the base was largely non-operational proved to be categorically false. The place was swarming with enemy agents, none of whom seemed particularly pleased to find themselves receiving a visit from Earth’s mightiest heroes. They put up rather a lot of resistance, which seemed to annoy Steve immensely. He appeared to be taking their presence on the base very personally, and attacked with a ferocity that surprised you. Your friend, normally fairly placid when off duty, was an absolute beast when facing an enemy.

Another problem was that the computers that Natasha managed to hack into seemed to carry no useful information whatsoever. She downloaded everything anyway – you never know what Fury and Coulson would consider important – but from what Nat could tell just by skimming through the info, this mission was a complete bust.

The final straw came when the team was attempting to leave the base.

Most of the enemy soldiers had been subdued fairly easily by yourself, Clint and Bucky, the three of you picking them off from your vantage points at various ends of the facility and giving the others a clear shot at breaking into the buildings to gather whatever they could find that might prove beneficial. But a couple of enemy agents had managed to sneak past, and as per the usual HYDRA protocol, once they realised that things were not going their way, they took the necessary steps to blow the entire place to smithereens.

You were heading back to the Quinjet, lagging slightly behind the others as you were at the opposite end of the base to them. The mission hadn’t been an absolute success, but you were certain it would not be considered a catastrophic failure, either. You were so focused on getting back to the jet that you failed to notice the rogue HYDRA agent behind you. Bucky did, though, and took them down – but not before the agent had managed to take a shot at you.

You collapsed with a cry of pain only a few feet from the loading ramp of the Quinjet, not even fully aware of what had happened. All you knew was that your legs no longer seemed to function properly.

The last thing you remembered before the darkness took hold of you was a pair of bright blue eyes filled with absolute terror as they stared at you.

***********************************************

“Come on, Y/N! Keep those eyes open for me, doll,” Steve cried, cradling you to his chest as he raced onto the Quinjet. The amount of blood terrified him, but he refused to let you know just how frightened he really was, instead encouraging you to keep your eyes open and stay with him in an effort to keep you conscious.

Bruce and Sam ushered him to the mini-medbay on the Quinjet, and Steve reluctantly relinquished his hold of you, placing you gently on the gurney while Sam pressed gauze to your wound in his attempts to staunch the flow of blood.

Steve stayed out of the way as best he could, knowing that he could help best by not interfering, but he could not bring himself to leave you. Not when you were deathly pale and barely breathing. He was not going to let you out of his sight until he knew that you were going to be alright.

Bruce moved efficiently, but calmly, hooking you up to an IV and a machine which would monitor your blood pressure and heartbeat while Clint flew the team back to the Compound as quickly as he could. He called ahead, warning the medical team to be on standby as soon as the jet landed.

You had been shot in the back by the HYDRA agent, the bullet one that was designed to inflict maximum internal damage. It had missed your major organs, fortunately, but had still managed to cause significant internal injuries, and Bruce had his work cut out for him getting you stabilised on the Quinjet with the limited equipment available to him.

There was no exit wound, but neither he nor Sam even considered attempting to remove the bullet while you were in transit. The most important thing was preventing you from drowning in your own blood, and that was proving extremely difficult. The amount of blood loss was staggering. Your blood pressure had fallen dangerously low, and both Bruce and Sam became concerned that they would not make it back to the Compound in time. They wisely didn’t mention this to Steve or the others.

Eventually, Clint announced that the Avengers Facility was in sight, and Bruce mentally crossed his fingers that they would be able to fix this mess in time. He really didn’t know how he was going to face Steve if they couldn’t.

***********************************************

Steve felt the full weight of the responsibility for your injury when he saw the distraught expressions on the faces of your father and brothers when they arrived in the hospital wing. He had contacted them immediately after Bruce had confirmed the extent of your injuries, and had advised them that he had arranged for a Quinjet to transport all of them to the Facility as soon as possible, so that they could be with you once you were in the recovery ward.

He paced the floor of the medical wing the entire time you were in surgery. He had never felt so helpless in his life. Even when Bucky had fallen from the train, Steve had at least made the attempt to save him. He hadn’t been able to do anything for you, and it preyed on his conscience. 

When your father arrived, Steve greeted him solemnly and gave him as much information as he could. Your father had been in the military and knew the risks involved, but this was the first time that any of his children had ever been seriously injured in the line of duty. It rattled him, yet he remained fairly composed while awaiting further news. Your brothers, however, had been frantic. Sebastian, in particular, was inconsolable until Bruce came several hours later advising that you were out of surgery, and that you were stable and likely to make a full recovery.

Steve felt a weight lift off his shoulders once Bruce confirmed that you would be alright, but he knew that the guilt would not leave him until he saw for himself that you were going to be fine.

“I’m so sorry, sir,” he apologised for the hundredth time. “I’m the team leader. I should have done more to protect your daughter.”  
  
“Son, stop apologising,” your father said. “She’s a big girl. Y/N’s been a soldier for nearly ten years. She signed up for this job knowing what kind of risks were involved. I’ve always known there was a chance that one of my kids might not make it home.”  
  
“I know, sir, but it’s my responsibility to ensure the safety of all members of my team. I failed to do that for Y/N.”

Your oldest brother, Robert, snorted. “I’m sorry, have you _met_ my sister? She’s the first person to run headlong into danger when everybody else is smart enough to be heading in the opposite direction. Trying to stop her from getting hurt is like trying to stop a hurricane. It’s impossible.”

Christopher laughed. “Do you remember that time when she tried to march onto the baseball field to clobber the town bully for calling Seb a pussy? I think she was all of seven at the time. I don’t think she even came up to his knee.”  
  
Your father grinned. “It took the four of you to stop her. Man, she’s a little hellcat when she gets riled up.”

Your youngest brother, Tom, chuckled. “Or when she tried to walk across the top of the monkeybars in the local playground just because the boy she had a crush on said that she couldn’t do it. And then she fell off before she even made it halfway, and broke her arm.”  
  
“Or the time that she fell through the thin ice on the lake when she was trying to rescue a baby deer,” Seb added. “She was in hospital for a week recovering from pneumonia.”

Steve stared at your brothers as they continued to regale each other with tales of your various mishaps. You sounded just as reckless as he had been when growing up. No wonder he felt such an affinity for you. You really were a kindred spirit.

***********************************************

Your eyelids felt heavy, as if someone had superglued them shut, because they just _did not_ want to open. But you needed to open them, because you could hear people muttering nearby and you needed to tell them to shut the hell up so you could sleep.

And what was that infernal beeping noise?  
  
Slowly, you managed to peel your eyes open a fraction. Instantly, you felt like you were being smothered to death.

“Well, you took your sweet ass time waking up.” That sounded a heck of a lot like Robert. Why was your big brother in your room, laying on top of you and annoying you?

“Get out of my room, Robbie,” you grumbled.

“Now, now, missy. Is that any way to talk to your big brother after the scare you gave all of us?” Your father gave you a stern look.  
  
You frowned. Why were all the men in your family sitting on your bed? What the hell had you done? Surely you hadn’t been _that_ drunk… “Dad, what are you talking about? What did I do?”

“Oh, nothing much. Just got yourself shot and nearly died on us, is all. It could happen to anyone. No big deal,” shrugged Chris.

_Shot?_ “But it’s not hunting season.”

“God, don’t you remember anything?” Tom asked.

You wracked your brain, trying to remember what you’d done to cause your loved ones so much concern. Slowly, the pieces of the puzzle fell into place. The HYDRA base, the faulty intel, the explosion…

“Oh…”

Your dad sat next to you, hugging you close. “Yeah. You were on a mission and got yourself shot, is what you did. Been unconscious for nearly four days. But you’re good as gold now, or so that nice Dr Banner tells us.”

“Bruce is pretty good at what he does. If he says I’m going to be fine, then I will be,” you murmured softly.

Seb helped you sit up, propping you up with extra pillows. “So, sis, tell us everything that’s been happening since you became an Avenger. Apart from being used for target practice, of course.”  
  
So you proceeded to fill your family in on your life since you’d joined the team; from beating Bucky on the firing range more often than not, to the regular karaoke sessions that the team enjoyed, to your Bad Movie Fridays with Steve, and everything in between. They listened quietly, pleased to know that you had found a home here, but mostly relieved at the fact that you were safe.

***********************************************

Sebastian had stayed with you long after the others had left for the rooms that Tony had kindly provided for them. The billionaire had offered for your family to stay as long as they wanted while you recovered from your injuries, and they had gratefully accepted. 

Your favourite brother sat holding your hand, still not quite believing just how close they’d all come to losing you.

Steve had dropped by briefly to see how you were feeling, and brought some books from your room and a box of chocolates from the team. He’d also blushed furiously as he presented you with a small bouquet of flowers – allegedly from Nat and Wanda – “to brighten up the room”. He refused Seb’s offer to stay, insisting that your family had priority over the rest of them as far as visitation rights, and that he would have plenty of time to check on you later. He pressed a soft kiss to your temple and then left, promising to stop by again in the morning after his run.

Seb gave you a look. You groaned as you opened the tub of Jello that your dad had brought for you earlier. “What, Sebastian?”  
  
“So when were you going to tell us that you’re dating Captain America?”

You choked on the spoonful of Jello that you’d just inhaled. After recovering from your coughing fit, you squeaked, _“What?”_

“You heard me. How long have you been seeing him?”

“I’m not dating Steve,” you scoffed.  
  
Seb clearly didn’t believe you. “I can see why you’d want to keep it to yourself. I mean, he’s only one of the most famous men in the entire country. Probably even the world. He’s a helluva catch.”

You rolled your eyes. “Seb, he’s my colleague. We work together. He’s my team leader, for goodness sake.”  
  
“And he waited for hours for you to get out of surgery. His combat gear was still covered in your blood when we got here. He stayed with us the entire time the doctors were working on you. The only reason he left once you were put into this room is because he couldn’t fit in here with the rest of us.”  
  
“Sebastian, Steve is clearly just concerned because he is my team leader. He’d do the same for any other member of the team that was injured.”  
  
“Uh huh. I’m sure he makes googly eyes at the rest of them, too,” Seb smirked.

“What on earth are you talking about?” you cried in exasperation.

“Sis,” Sebastian said. “That guy is obviously completely gaga for you. The books, the flowers, the amount of time you spend together, checking in on you every five minutes, the way he can’t take his eyes off you... If that’s not a guy in love with a girl, then I don’t know what is. Not that I blame him. You’re the coolest chick I know, and he’s clearly got excellent taste if he thinks my little sister is good enough for him.”  
  
You sat in stunned silence. _Your brother thought that you were dating Captain America._ Even worse, he was convinced that _Steve was in love with you_. If Seb thought that, then surely the rest of your family did, too. How on earth had they come to that conclusion? It was completely ridiculous. There was absolutely no reason for them to think anything of the sort. It was beyond ludicrous.  
  
“Look, Seb, it’s not like that. Steve and I are just friends, that’s all. He’s my best friend on the team. End of story.”  
  
Your brother grinned. “Sure. That’s why your face lit up like a Christmas tree when you saw him poke his head through the door. You haven’t swooned like that over a guy since Billy Lawrence in tenth grade.”

“I was not swooning!” you hissed indignantly.

“Of course you weren’t,” he replied soothingly. “That’s also why you didn’t blush when he kissed you in front of me. Admit it, Y/N. You’re in love with Captain America.”

“I am not having this discussion with you, Sebastian,” you said primly. You grabbed a book from the pile on the bedside table and pretended to ignore your brother while you read.

“Alright, sis. I’ll drop it.” Sebastian kissed the top of your head as he stood up. “For now.”

You threw the book at your brother as he retreated from the room, laughing.


	7. Let Me Know That It’s Not All In My Mind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve realises that his feelings for you run much deeper than just friendship. Could he dare to hope that you feel the same way about him?

It took a full month after you were shot before the medical team cleared you to begin training again in the gym. Bruce was adamant that you were still unfit to return to active duty for several weeks, so Fury only allowed you to do paperwork for the team. You hated every second of it, and made no secret of the fact, but the Director was totally unmoved by your pouting.

The only thing that made sitting behind a desk for hours at a time even remotely bearable was that Steve joined you whenever he was available. He kept you company, brought you coffee, and made sure you actually ate regularly. You were convinced he was the only reason you were still relatively sane whilst stuck in an office instead of doing any real Avenging.

Steve also dragged Bucky by the ear – literally - to see you. The former assassin had been studiously avoiding you since your injury, blaming himself for the fact that you were shot. You reminded him that if it weren’t for him, you’d probably be dead, because the HYDRA agent would have finished you off before anybody else had a chance to retaliate. It took quite a lot of convincing on your part, but eventually you managed to persuade Bucky that you didn’t hold him responsible, and that if he continued to beat himself up over it then you would get Natasha to actually beat him up for real. You were rewarded with a soft smile and a promise to ‘get over himself’, and life started to return to normal.

At least, until New Year’s Eve.

***********************************************

“You ready for tonight, Steve?”

Blue eyes blinked at you. “What do you mean, Y/N?”

“I mean, it’s New Year’s Eve! Do you have your resolutions sorted out?”

Steve snorted. “I don’t make resolutions.”

You stared at him. “What?”

He shrugged. “I just don’t feel the need to try to make any changes to my life. I’m pretty happy with things the way they are.”

“Really? There’s not a single thing that you would change if you could?”

“Not really, no.”

You sighed. “It must be nice to have everything so perfect.”

Steve snorted. “Perfect? Sweetheart, my life is so far from perfect it’s not funny. But I’ve got great friends, a rewarding job, and a roof over my head. Can’t really ask for more than that.”

You sighed again. Steve looked at you closely. Ever since your injury, you’d been more quiet than usual. You weren’t your normal vibrant self, and it worried him. You were usually full of sunshine and happy thoughts and cheesy 80s music. You shouldn’t be walking around like you had a storm cloud over you.

“What about you, Y/N? What’s your resolution for the coming year, seeing as you seem to think everybody should have one?” Steve asked with a smile.

You felt your face turning red. “Well… I guess I want to try to be… more courageous about… well, certain things.”

“Really?” Steve blinked with surprise. “You’re pretty brave already. Why would you think you need more courage?”

“I’m not talking about Avengers stuff. I mean, I want to be braver when it comes to… letting people know how I feel… about them, I mean.” Your face felt like it was on fire.

“What do you mean?”

You avoided Steve’s gaze. “I mean… well, see, there’s this guy that I’ve kind of been crushing on for a while now, only I don’t think he sees me that way. I get the feeling he normally thinks I’m more of a nuisance than anything. I just want to find the strength to let him know how I feel about him, and also to be strong enough to handle the inevitable rejection when he tells me that there’s absolutely no chance.”

You turned your wistful gaze towards Steve, and he stared back at you, his heart hammering in his chest. Were you saying what he thought you were? God, how he hoped so. “I know what you mean.”

He gulped, and looked at a spot above your head, not feeling strong enough to look you in the eye, before he continued. “I suppose, if I had to change one thing about my life, I would also want to be able to find the courage to finally tell the girl of my dreams how I feel about her.”

“You like someone? Really?” Your face lit up in anticipation. “Spill! Tell me all the details. I want names, Rogers.”

He hesitated. “Well, I think maybe it might be better to wait until tonight. You know, maybe try to give her a kiss at midnight and let her know then. That way, we can start the New Year together. If she’ll have me, that is.”

You scoffed. “Pffft. Of course she’ll have you, Steve. What girl wouldn’t want to be told that she’s the object of Captain America’s affections? I tell you what, if this girl doesn’t reciprocate your feelings, I’m going to have some very stern words with her.”

Steve tried to suppress his grin. You felt the same way he did. He couldn’t believe it. After all this time, his luck with women was finally about to change.

“All right. So, it’s a deal. You and I will both tell our crushes how we feel at midnight, and hope for the best,” he said.

You linked your pinky finger with his, sealing the deal. “You got it. And when they tell us that they just want to be friends, then we can console each other over a glass of Thor’s Asgardian firewater.”

“It’s a date,” Steve grinned.

***********************************************

You took one final look in the mirror. You had to admit, Natasha had outdone herself this time. The red Versace gown you wore was more daring than anything you would have picked for yourself, but as the beautiful Russian reminded you, if you couldn’t make an impression on New Year’s Eve then what was the point?  
  


You headed towards the ballroom, your heart beating wildly in your chest.

“This is it, Y/N. Now or never.”

Taking a deep breath, you walked into the ballroom. You looked over the assembled throng, searching intently for the one person you wanted to see more than anyone.

When you spotted the object of your affections, you squared your shoulders and made your way over to where he stood. The entire time you tried desperately to ignore the way your heart almost burst out of your chest.

You ignored everything but _him._

***********************************************

Steve noticed the exact moment you entered the room. He nearly dropped his drink, so enamoured of you that he lost concentration and stopped speaking mid-sentence.

Bucky followed his gaze, then whistled his admiration. “Man, I never knew Trigger knew how to wear anything other than workout gear or a tac suit. She looks like a million bucks.”

Sam nodded in agreement. “She could give most of the women here a run for their money, right Cap?”

Both men knew of Steve’s feelings for you, and hoped that tonight he would actually man up and finally tell you himself. They were sick of watching him pining over you.

Bucky nudged Steve’s shoulders. “What are you waiting for, punk? This is the moment. Go over there and tell her how you feel.”

Steve nodded briefly, swallowed his drink in one gulp, and straightened his shoulders. With steely determination, he prepared himself to head towards you.

***********************************************

His eyes glinted in appreciation as he took in your form. “Y/N, you look absolutely beautiful.”  
  
“Why, thank you,” you replied, your cheeks turning pink from the compliment. “You look great as well. That suit looks amazing on you.”  
  
He preened at the compliment.  
  
“I’ll bet it looks even better off.”

_Did you just say that out loud? Shit, you did!_

A brief look of shock crossed his features, before being immediately replaced with a smirk. “Well, what do you say we head back to my room so we can find out if that’s true?”  
  
You hesitated for only a fraction of a second before accepting the arm he offered, and the two of you left the party together, oblivious to everything but each other.

***********************************************

Steve watched in dismay as you left on Tony’s arm, your eyes focused on the billionaire, a blush blooming across your cheeks as he whispered something to you.

Once again, Steve had left it too late. He’d missed his opportunity to tell you how he felt, and now Stark had swooped in and taken his place.

Nothing had changed. Seventy years and he was still hopeless with women. Steve knew from that moment on that he truly was destined to be alone. And it was his own fault.

Tucking his feelings firmly away, he decided he would continue to be there for you as the best friend he could possibly be. You didn’t love him the way he loved you, but he would just have to accept whatever you could give him. It would hurt, but he would cope.

Because that’s what friends do.


End file.
